Can I Be Your Friend
by Kajune
Summary: When Mukuro comes down with a bad fever, Yamamoto ends up being the one there to cure it.


**Title **: Can I Be Your Friend

**Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the Characters of Katekyo Hitman Reborn!.

**Genre** : Friendship

**Warning **: OOCness.

**Summary **: When Mukuro comes down with a bad fever, Yamamoto ends up being the one there to cure it.

* * *

When his eyes opened, he realized immediately that something was wrong.

The light of the morning sun is still as bright as usual, the smell of filth and the sight of dirt and dust in the room are still the same, and therefore, he decides to act as if everything _is_ still the same and its usual.

* * *

Yamamoto didn't understand why the school gates of Namimori Junior High were shut sealed, keeping him from entering the area where he had planned on practicing for the big baseball tournament with his friends. Today was a Tuesday, so it was very odd.

He was not the only student to find their quick rush out of bed a complete waste of time, and after briefly looking at the scenery with nothing clearly suspicious, Yamamoto rushes back. He knows it won't be at least another half hour until his two best friends arrive, since it is very early in the morning for them.

His feet carry him off to a distance, not in the direct towards his home but towards a certain place, which he had not been at for quite sometime, and only because he was forbidden to. Looking up, he can now see the worn out building of Kokuyo Land.

Not the most beautiful sight available.

This will be his second trespass, not including his very first time with Tsuna and his gang. Prior to opening the rusty gates this time, Yamamoto had actually come here in search of a single ball, given to him by a dear friend. Unwilling to let Dino's poor throw separate him from it, Yamamoto went in and eventually found it.

Although it was by chance that Chikusa caught him, and the two made an agreement.

By not being the only one to lose such an object, Chikusa has managed to collect many other baseballs which had arrived sometime earlier. The only unique thing about this one, is that Ken was not present to rip apart those daring to retrieve it.

While letting Yamamoto take back what is rightfully his, Chikusa agreed to let him have the other balls one at a time, whenever he came in, in exchange for excusing the absence of the now-hospitalized students. Not-so surprisingly, they were all Namimori Junior High students, and all did not go down without causing family riots.

Such riots led to annoyance, and yesterday, did one man attempt to keep it up even after the talk was over.

Eager to get his hands on another ball for extra self-practice, Yamamoto slowly goes up the couple of steps and closer towards the building.

He never thought to see Mukuro greet him by the front door.

"Oya oya, Yamamoto Takeshi. What brings you into my domain?" Mukuro asks, his confident smile and spine-tingling gaze still the same as when they last met.

"Umm...I came to see...Chikusa." Yamamoto honestly says, his tone not hiding one bit of his awkward feeling inside.

Not only was he made clear of being forbidden to enter here, the whole Kokuyo gang was told of it too.

"Too bad. Chikusa and the rest have gone out for a long trip, and they won't be back anytime soon."

The words came out with politeness, but Yamamoto could feel how the look in those eyes were giving him an increasing amount of fear, as if to warn him that he should leave as quickly as possible.

"Uhh...then, may I get what I came for?"

"Kufufu. I'm afraid..._not_."

The last word came out with a deep sense of threat, and Yamamoto knew that if he didn't leave soon, he'd be dead. Mukuro was not as friendly to guests as everyone liked to believe, and when it became quite obvious how much of this was true, Gokudera initiated the rule.

As a smart move, Yamamoto hoped to turn round and walk away when Mukuro's back came to face him. The other person did not want to speak to him anymore, and would rather see him dead, should he persist in gaining privilege not permitted to him.

However, just as the thought to move his foot forward came, a loud thud was heard from behind, and Yamamoto turned round to find that Mukuro had in fact, collapsed. Too concerned to care, Yamamoto crossed into the building and bent down to touch Mukuro's forehead.

Even if doing so would cost a life.

Unbelievable however, how the earlier confident and calm look has suddenly just faded, replaced by a look of someone severely ill. The touch on the forehead tells him clearly that Mukuro is very sick, having such a high fever as proof.

He knows he may die more painfully by doing this, but Yamamoto is no devil to let any man lie possibly dying on the floor of any room. Shoving his arms behind the back and under the knees, Yamamoto lifts the illusionist from the floor and to the nearest sofa he can find.

Which apparently, turns out to be the very bed Mukuro woke up on this morning.

* * *

Mukuro awakens with a shudder, and above him, he sees the face of someone who is rubbing his forehead with a cold and wet towel. Above his form he can feel a small blanket, possibly one found on the floor somewhere. Yes, he is very sick, but that doesn't mean he wanted others to know.

Grabbing the other teenager's wrist and moving it away, Mukuro sits up with much effort, and glares at Yamamoto, while forgetting to also smile.

The baseball player looks back at him in shock.

"Get out, Yamamoto Takeshi. You are not welcomed here."

His voice demanding but calm, sends instant fear down the spine of Yamamoto, though much much more than it did earlier on.

"Why?"

The concerned teen asks in response. Mukuro finds this question rather hilarious.

"Why? This is my home, this is my body. None of it is for you to invade."

"Invade?" Yamamoto in turn, finds this phrase very extreme. "Mukuro, you're sick! I'm trying to-"

"I don't need your help." Mukuro throws the arm away, knocking the cold cloth from those soft hands. Yamamoto himself, is not pleased with any of these signs of rejection.

Silence comes...but only briefly. Yamamoto just can't understand why anyone would want to deny such help.

"Why Mukuro?" He asks. "Why do you want to hide this pain?"

"Kufufu." Mukuro chuckles, and Yamamoto doesn't feel pleased about it. "My pain is for me to take care of, not some Vongola swordsman such as yourself to care about."

Yamamoto tries to not react to the obvious title of his, which is said to only be used when Mukuro is trying to create some distant, and right now, that is the last thing Yamamoto wants.

"But I can't help it if I do!" Honestly, does he reply again.

While the desire for solution is what Yamamoto fails to understand, especially with such a heavy fever present, the persistent nature to care for even he who is an enemy, is what always gets Mukuro wondering.

He parts his lips, mutters a word, "Then...", but fails to say anymore.

* * *

Mukuro looks up, but no longer sees the bright morning light of the sun, and instead sees a rather orange color, emitting passed the top of the torn sofa he personally chose to use as a bed during most nights. When he turns to his left, he sees that person again, on his knees, and bringing out an ice-cold towel from a bucket of water.

When Yamamoto turns and sees those eyes looking at him, he looks partly relieved as he is surprised. How strange, Mukuro finds it.

"Mukuro." He calls, and when he is but an inch from the sofa, he says, "You're awake.", in a calm, and fearless voice.

Also unlike this morning, the agonizing pain that traveled throughout every muscle, that dizziness that held him down and blocked him from his sense of logic, are both gone. Left behind, is nothing but a cool feeling on his forehead, along with a faint feeling of happiness that those chains are gone.

When the hand moves to apply more coldness to his head, Mukuro touches it by the wrist and says, "No more."

Yamamoto, although a bit surprised, complies.

With the cloth back floating slightly in the bucket, Yamamoto sits himself next to the recovered Mukuro, with a happy smile. Is he happy he is better, or happy to have lived this long after violating a law? When Mukuro asks this question, the answer is...

"I'm glad that you're better."

Unable to call him a fool since it did him well, Mukuro simply smiles, though this does not mean that he will not punish him later for his rude intrusion, to the only place he is always hoping he won't find any Mafia infestation.

After a brief and peaceful moment of silence, Yamamoto's mind gets an idea he is eager to share.

His lips mutter, and Mukuro becomes very much less okay with having left this man breathing beyond an acceptable time. Though in the end, no trident became present and no blood was shed. A baseball was taken from Chikusa's private room of collected stuff, and Mukuro was back on his feet with normal effort.

After Yamamoto leaves the area, Mukuro thinks back at the question asked, and repeats the thought in his mind.

_"Can I be your friend?"_

* * *

**Owari**

* * *

**Note** : This story is not only intended to satisfy one's boredom, but to also inspire those to believe that friendship can bring miracles as well as joy. To believe in love is also to believe in the bond of friends.


End file.
